


Another ringer with the slick trigger finger

by laurel_crown



Category: Bourne (Movies), Bourne Legacy (2012), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 05:43:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/606420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurel_crown/pseuds/laurel_crown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aaron finds his job interrupted by a very smug Englishman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another ringer with the slick trigger finger

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greenet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenet/gifts).



> Title from Another Way to Die, the credits song for Quantum of Solace. Saw the invitation to crossover Bourne with Craig's Bond and couldn't resist!

Aaron was sure the guy across the bar was watching him. Those ice-blue eyes were starting to freak him out a little, to be honest. If only the man was drinking something other than a martini that enhanced the effect in its rippling reflections.

Was he overdue for a blue chem, or what? Focus, Aaron. You have other things to do than trade glances with some hotshot way too overdressed for a downtown Madrid bar. The man might as well have been wearing a sign saying _I’m a suspicious stranger, y’all_ , and it was making the locals skittish. The last thing he needed was some punk ruining the job for him; Outcome wasn’t impressed with his last run, it had ended badly. This one had to be clean.

Objective: find the target and kill him before another party (the Brits, Aaron assumed) offered him immunity so they could talk. Aaron had skimmed over the file, and he agreed that it would be far easier to just get the target out of the way. Information gathering was for sissies.

The target stood up from his table, draining a final tequila shot before walking – in almost a straight line, quite impressive – out the door. Aaron turned back to his drink just in time to see the other guy doing the same. Suspicion flickered, and Aaron tilted his head slightly. The smug bastard actually _winked_ at him, then headed to what passed for a bathroom out back. Aaron rolled his eyes at the theatrics, and followed.

 

 

“I take it you’re the trigger-happy moron I’m to beat to the mark?” the man said as soon as Aaron shut the door.

He’d punch him if he didn’t a) hold himself like a soldier and b) have a smirk at the corner of his mouth. So Aaron inclined his head instead. “Guilty.”

“Bond.”

It took Aaron a moment to realise what he meant. It could even be his real name; it was hard to tell. His eyes looked innocent and deadly at the same time. Ah, what the hell. “Cross.”

Bond nodded. “You wouldn’t hold off a day or so if I asked you nicely?”

Was he _serious?_ “’Fraid not.”

“Bloody Yankee.”

“Uptight Pom,” Aaron’s mouth said, entirely bypassing his brain. He winced, and was relieved to note the Brit also seemed faintly embarrassed.

“Let’s not do that again,” Bond muttered.

“Deal.”

Aaron held his gaze for a moment, offering another deal, and realised the feeling was mutual. The man must have some common sense after all.

“After you.” Bond gestured to the rusted doorhandle at Aaron’s elbow, light glinting off his wrist. Cufflinks as _well?_ Aaron didn’t know why he bothered.

Swallowing a _you’re too kind_ , in case Bond took it as an invitation, Aaron walked back into the bar. His body itched all the way, but there were no sudden movements from behind to snap his taut nerves. He reached the bartender, and Bond reappeared, sitting down at his stool to finish the martini.

Aaron paid up and headed in the same direction the target had gone; if Bond was going to be courteous, he might as well take advantage of that. As soon as he turned the corner, he broke into a run. Last one there has to explain it to the bureaucracy.


End file.
